Abscond
by TapesAndRecords
Summary: "Are we bad people, Tony?" They've run away, because they're in love.
1. Chapter 1

**note: **So this is my latest thing. I've been, uh, reluctant to post it, but thanks to Anne (who's been giving me reminders every now and then) and Sophie (who wanted me to post it when I first wrote this, months ago), you're getting it.  
I've got quite a few ideas for things to do here, but I can't smush them together into a oneshot, so this is gonna be a multi-chapter. Sadly. How often I'll update it, however, I don't know.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you decide that yes, you will marry Michael Weatherly.

**listening to: **Love Love Love, by Of Monsters and Men.

* * *

The ring on her finger seems far too heavy, for such a small object. It's thin and gold, nothing fancy, since they didn't exactly have time to search for the "perfect" one. Plus, she supposes, it didn't replace another one before that, so perhaps it's merely the new sensation.  
No, this bears the weight of what it means. Of marriage in haste, of sudden love that's been there for years.

He's got one too. His arm's slung round her bare waist and she can feel the cold metal as it rests against her skin. It's a constant, more so almost than his presence; than his uneven breaths against her neck as he tries to fall asleep.

"Are we bad people, Tony?"  
Her voice almost cracks as she asks it.

"...what?"

"Is this wrong... should we have told the team, should we have let them be there with us?"

He shifts his head, nose nuzzling her neck. "We agreed we didn't want the whole wedding thing. And yeah, this is sudden, but..." he trails off, pausing to think. "Well, maybe, we should've told them. But the fact that we didn't, doesn't make us bad _people_, Ziva."

She sighs, lifting his arm up into the air. He tenses, presumably thinking she's moving away, but she merely rolls in his grasp and lays her head against his bare chest, placing his arm back down and sliding her own round his waist.  
"I love you, Tony. And I do not regret this, believe me. I maybe regret _how_ we did this, but that's all.

He places his other arm round her and pulls her tighter, leaning down and stealing a kiss before she even notices he's moved. "I love you."

She smiles, kissing him again, and pulls back so they're nose-to-nose.  
They've said those words quite a lot recently, but she's not sure they'll ever stop sending a shiver through her.  
His fingers lace through hers and he twists her ring, round and round and round, as if he's still amazed at this too. Chuckling slightly, she moves and lays her head on his chest, listening for the _thud thud thud _of his heart; another constant.

"I really do, y'know." His voice cuts through the quiet of their hotel room, hushed and calming, but noticeable all the same. "This whole thing is kinda crazy, and for a long time I only dreamed about it, but… I'm _so_ happy right now  
He sounds almost as if he can't quite believe what's happened.  
Neither can she.

She thinks she gets where he's coming from. Leaning up to kiss him again, she snuggles up closer and lets her eyes slide closed.  
Nothing has ever felt so perfect.

* * *

_I'll only continue it if you guys actually want me to._


	2. Chapter 2

**note: **Wow. That response was... overwhelming. And, apparently, you guys want me to continue this. Word of warning, it can't be happiness and rainbows all the time; this is something big and difficult and I want to focus on how these two will deal with it over their happy little haven. Which is why I'm getting them out of their current location as soon as I can, in case you're still interested.  
I wanted to update quickly so you all knew that yes, I'm gonna continue this one, but I've got exams coming up and things like that, so I can't promise updates like this all the time. Either way, I hope you enjoy this bundle of angst.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when your main reservation about going abroad for a week is that you'll miss the latest episode of the show.

**listening to: **Stay, by Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko.

* * *

His hand slips into hers as they walk down the street. They return home in two days and she knows, though neither of them have said anything, they're both desperate to make as much of their time together as they can. When she turns to him with a raised eyebrow he merely sends her a charming grin and tugs her alongside him whilst she takes in their surroundings.  
The Spanish street is warm and tinged a deep yellow from the sun and constant warmth; cobbled stones line the ground beneath their feet and she falters in her step every now and then. Chattering gaggles of tourists stumble past them every now and then, going to lunch or to a church or wherever their folded-over guidebooks and maps tell them to.

They don't have a guidebook. No, they only need each other and the sun and a vague knowledge of where their hotel is, and they'll be fine.

**000000**

"Can we stop here? The shade's kinda nice and I want to get some pictures of that fountain." Tony asks, a child-like earnest on his face. She smiles and nods and he flops down onto the grass, patting the space by his side.  
"There's plenty of room."

She kneels down almost tentatively, but the cool ground is quite a comfort and she lays right next to him, head on his shoulder and one arm resting over his waist. She smiles when he pulls her closer.

"Well, this is nice." she says into his shirt whilst she hears a camera shutter.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." He pauses, and she closes her eyes and rests a little. "Hey, open your eyes."

She does, and as soon as his face is in-focus for her, the camera's shoved into her line of vision and he's caught yet another candid snap of her.

"Delete that. Now."  
She reaches over to try and snatch the camera off him, once he shakes his head. "Are you making it your aim to get a picture of me in every country in Europe?"

"I hadn't thought about it. But thanks for the idea."

He brings up the photo on the screen, and though she can see it, and loathes her almost sleepy eyes and frizzy hair, he smiles at the shot like it's something of wonder.  
"God, you're beautiful."

Her cheeks feel hot all of a sudden and she knows he's noticed, but instead of saying anything he merely leans down and presses a kiss to her lips before reminding her he loves her.

"I love you, too."

He's leaning in again when they hear a high-pitched laugh and pull apart to see what the commotion's about. Ziva grins as she sees a little girl run past them, babbling nonsense in Spanish as she chases after a little dog.  
Her mother trails behind her and apologizes, and Ziva quickly says it's no bother.

"I have no idea how you know what language to speak when you wake up in the morning." Tony says, with a tone of incredulity at her sudden Spanish.

She laughs and sends him a look.  
"It is more difficult when I'm drunk."

**000000**

He buries his face in her neck when they're drifting off to sleep. She noticed he did that last night, too, and she wonders if he'll do it every time. All the time. For the rest of their lives.

"Ziva. I can hear you thinking."

She frowns, about to feign ignorance as to what he means, but his hand sweeps up and down her hip and the words she says are not those she intended.  
"We didn't think this through."

He coughs, arm tightening round her waist.  
"...what?"

"I... I did not mean it, like that."

"Well how did you mean it, then?" his voice is harsh and it hurts her ears.

"We rushed into this, Tony, we haven't talked about the future, we- we haven't discussed anything like... living arrangements, we just jumped, head... head first."

Her eyes fly open when his grip tightens even more and she gasps upon finding his face right above hers, eyes burning.  
"I thought I made it clear, Ziva. _I love you_. That's why we've done this, that's why we're here. I'm not here because of where we're gonna live, as much as, you know, we should talk about that when we get back, maybe. Just... you never stop thinking. You're always thinking and analyzing and, maybe, this is something you can't look at too deeply. It is what it is and that's all that matters."

His breath fans across her face as his eyes move shut, as if his little speech has worn him out.

"I can't stop thinking, Tony."  
She leans up and kisses him, chastely, before rolling out of his still-tight grasp and trying to force sleep to claim her.

Sometime later, his hand dances round her waist and he pulls her tightly against him again; his head rests in her neck like always.  
But this time, his breath is ragged and she thinks something warm drops onto her skin and is quickly swiped away, just before sleep pulls her under.

She has no idea what to do.

* * *

_I hope that wasn't too angsty for you, heh._


	3. Chapter 3

**note: **This one's been hell. What with all that's been happening Tiva-wise in the fandom right now, I haven't had much chance to divert my attention from Berlin and dancing to angst such as this. But this happened this afternoon, after I finally worked out how to start the idea I'd had. I think it's quite a bit less angsty than the last chapter, too. The main difficulty here is that Tony and Ziva never talk about anything, but here, that's kinda what they need to do. Uhm, enjoy.  
On another note I'm getting really bad at replying to reviews. Rest assured, I read them all, but sometimes time gets away from me.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when

**listening to: **Slow it Down, by The Lumineers. (oh my heart)

* * *

She's not quite sure where she's expecting him to be when she wakes up. The space next to her is empty and cold, and the sheets are pulled tight; almost as if he was never there at all. She can hear breathing, however, and she sits up to see him sat at the foot of the bed, feet swung over on the floor and his head in his hands. His frame is stiff and tense, with hunched shoulders, and something about it sends a stab of worry through her. Standing, she grabs a shirt from the floor, pulls it on, and moves next to him.

"Can I...?"

He nods, but does not look at her, and she sits next to him with a sigh.

"I'm an idiot, right? Best thing I've ever had and I throw it all away because I don't know how to handle it properly."  
His voice is tight with frustration, but it seems to be at himself more than anything.

She tenses, not really sure what to say, and he continues addressing the carpet.

"Truth is, you're right. We didn't think any of this through, w-we just ran, and we didn't think about the team, or our jobs, or... each other. And I understand if you want out, I do, we can try things again but take them slow, or... not bother at all, if that's what you'd like, though..."  
He trails off, and she's hit all of a sudden with just how insecure he can be; she often forgets that the confident air he gives off is almost a facade.

"Tony, what I want," she pauses, and reaches over to take his hand "is to be with you. That's what I wanted when we came here, and that's what I want now. Neither of us know what we're doing, but that does not mean we should _stop_. There is a lot about... this, that I am unsure of. But I know for certain that I love you, if that counts for anything."

Finally, he raises his head so his eyes meet hers, and though part of her thinks she's never seen him look so vulnerable, there's the tiniest spark in his eyes. He sends her a small, intimate smile that makes her insides turn to mush, and he nods.  
"I think that counts for a lot."

Leaning down, her fingers tilt up his chin and she kisses him. It's chaste but sweet, and tastes a little bit like resolution. She pulls back, her hand tracing his jaw, and grins.  
"So where are we going today?"

**000000**

They head out for lunch, making small talk to pass the time as they still recover from their rather large bump in the road. Their hands are entwined on the tabletop as they finally discuss what they're going to do.

"I think we should tell Gibbs first. I don't know, I feel like it'd be kinda wrong to leave him until last. Plus he probably expected something like this as soon as he heard Vance let us stay for four extra days."

"The hotel _was_ booked for a week, finding the Petty Officer took less time than we expected."

"Yeah, but we did happen to get married, too."  
His words sound so casual that she can't help but giggle.

"Yes, we did."

Suddenly his eyes are dark and kind and they take her back to a time years ago, as he sat on her desk and they came closer than ever before. She feels so in love with the smiling man before her that she's not sure she can quite believe it. He, too, seems mildly stunned, and his fingers twist in hers so he actually grips her hand.

"Wow. You got that too?"

She nods in reply, slightly speechless, and listens as Tony begins to debate more ways of telling the team. But frankly, she's lost most interest in whether telling them individually or as a group bears any significance, and as she runs her thumb up and down the back of his hand, she focuses solely on _him_.

"...Ziva? You still with me?"

"Yes."  
She's lying.

She forgets, in fact, that she's such a terrible liar sometimes.  
Tony signals to the waiter for the check, and they sprint back to the hotel like teenagers.

**000000**

She has to admit, she is extremely comfortable with his arms round her. The two of them fit very well, like pieces of a puzzle, and whilst his arms slide round her waist, hers can easily loop round his neck, and they can drift off to sleep like that. Now, though, she has no interest in sleeping. It's only 5pm, and though Tony's hands are stroking her back in a comforting, steady motion that might otherwise make her sleepy, she's quite content to just lay there with him.

She knows she'll never forget the night he turned up at her door, fist pounding against the wood until she opened it. He was dishevelled, she remembers, with crumpled clothes and hair sticking up in all directions, and his chest was heaving as if he'd run a mile to get to her. She'd let him in without a word and she can recall how he eyed the beige file sitting on her coffee table before turning to face her.  
There was an expression in his eyes that now, a week later, she still can't place. Whatever it was, it made her heart pound all of a sudden, and she let the door swing shut without taking her gaze off him. He seemed to wait until the lock clicked before he lunged forward, hands cupping her cheeks, and kissed her, feverishly. She could only kiss him back.

Tony moves slightly, one hand shifting to her hair, and she remembers how he did that as they lay in bed, just a few days ago, before he suggested- admittedly in a roundabout way- that they run away together. And so they did, and they went to Spain, bought some rings, and here they are.

A thought springs to mind all of a sudden, and she's blurting it out before she can stop herself.

"Do you... Oh, never mind."

"What? No, go on, tell me."  
He prods her lightly in the side, his interest clearly peaked.

"I was merely wondering when you decided you wanted to marry me."

"Oh. Like, was it the night I came to you, or before?"  
She hums in the affirmative against his chest.  
"I'd realized it a _long_ time ago. But I knew, another week with you, in another European city, I really wouldn't be able to resist. So I... acted, before we left, then I'd know what to do when we got here. The asking you to marry me thing just kinda came out. But, uh, I'm glad it did."

His hands gently pull her back from him, and she sees him grin before planting a kiss on her lips.

"I'm glad it did, too."

With that, she kisses him again, and her hands grip her shoulders as she presses him back into the mattress.  
Yes, she's definitely glad.

* * *

_Less angsty, right?_


	4. Chapter 4

**note: **I hate posting stuff I'm not happy with but I figured you've all waited long enough and I've been told this is okay anyway. Sorry this has taken months, it's been giving me grief and I hope with posting this my block may go somewhat. Anyway I'm kinda bed-ridden today and I'm horribly sunburnt and I just wanted to put this up. It was written before the Cote-debacle, however, so it actually kinda hurts for me to read it. Maybe it won't for you guys, who knows. Another fic I'm rather more happy with than this shall be posted in a few days time (and I mean that this time).  
Enjoy, favourite, review, whatever you deem best. I'm gonna go hide in my blog and get over my anxiety regarding this fic.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you get four tubs of Nutter Butters for your birthday. (yes, I did.)

**listening to: **Bible Belt, by Dry the River.

* * *

They're both jittery on the plane journey home. They've been avoiding a certain topic since it came up last, and now he's starting to think that was a bad idea. She must do too, if the way she's squeezing his hand is any inclination. Their nerves are to be expected, though, and when the image of a furious Gibbs floats into his head, he suspects feeling mildly scared is just something they both must adjust to.

**000000**

As much as they don't want to put-off telling Gibbs, they decide to head home first. He drops her at her apartment, kisses her and reminds her he loves her, and then pulls away reluctantly. It's the first time they've been separated so much since they got married, and he can't quite adjust to the sudden space between them. Over the past few days, she's been his everything, and the current shift is off-putting.  
He spins his wedding ring round and round his finger when he's stopped at a light, and it helps, a little.

He tidies his place somewhat when he gets home, the two of them already having agreed to return there after they face their boss. The change to a king-size bed only a few weeks ago was definitely a good decision, he thinks as he stretches clean sheets over it, and he's glad he did some shopping before their unexpected trip; the remaining food should just be enough to make a meal. Perhaps they'll make it together.

As he fluffs a pillow, images fly through his head without warning. Domestic scenes, involving Ziva, wrapped in only a bed sheet, wandering through the apartment in search of something or other. Then, he sees mail with both their names on the top; hears children wailing in the middle of the night; smells pancakes that he'll make to try and surprise his wife in bed that morning.

But it's not scary. It's all he's ever wanted, and more, and it's _wonderful_. It's also the reason that he kisses her senseless when she slips into the car next to him before they head off to Gibbs'.

**000000**

"Anybody home?" he calls out as they enter the house. Though their boss is known for boats and bourbon in the basement, there have been times where the both of them have seen him ironing in his living room, or cooking a steak on his fire. The answering call, however, comes from beneath them, and Tony laces his fingers through Ziva's as they head to the basement door.

"Hey, boss."  
His words are more of an announcement, and he sees Gibbs' head lift up in his periphery vision as he starts down the stairs. Ziva still clutches his hand, however, and he feels their arms drag out before she follows him, a good few steps behind.

Gibbs is staring by now, eyes squinting and mild confusion etched into his features. Ziva catches up, eventually, and they come to a halt right by the base of the stairs. It feels foreign to Tony; almost as if they're unwelcomed guests who need permission to even be in this room- not like the makeshift family they actually are.

"We have something to tell you, Gibbs." Ziva says, her voice surprisingly strong from his left.

The older man sets down the things in his hands and lets his arms fall against his thighs. The gesture may be plain but it's almost comforting to Tony; it shows Gibbs means no harm.

"You two finally work things out when you were in Europe?" he asks, gruffly, but with no malice in his tone.

Tony winces, and he can feel Ziva do the same.  
"Uh, a little more than that, boss."  
Their hands part as he lifts his left, and he knows Ziva mirrors his action.

"We got married." Ziva's voice shakes somewhat and he knows just how much Gibbs' approval means to her.

The man's eyebrows raise in clear surprise and he takes a step back.  
"Ah jeez, guys, why'd you do that?"

Tony frowns, utterly confused.  
"Uh—"

"I know _why_, DiNozzo, hell, I can _see _why right now," he gestures towards the two of them as if that explains things, "But getting married, really?"  
Gibbs' tone should be angry, Tony's sure of it, but instead, it's light and mildly cheerful.

"So... you do not mind this?" Ziva asks, sounding as confused as her husband.

"Can't say I'm not a little shocked. But you got married, and you came here, and... that takes guts." He pauses, breath held as if debating what to say next. "You make a good team. And this proves it."

Ziva runs towards Gibbs all of a sudden, arms flying round his neck, and Tony almost wants to avert his gaze at the very private way Gibbs pulls her closer. When they pull apart, Gibbs moves toward his younger agent, and Tony can practically smell the headslap.  
There isn't one, though. Instead, Gibbs' hand grips his tight, in a firm but somehow gentle handshake.

"I gotta say, boss, I thought you'd be more mad."

"Not me you should be worrying about, DiNozzo. You got married and didn't tell Abby."

**000000**

They tell the team all at once, the next day, and somehow it's more difficult than telling Gibbs was. Abby's a little hurt, yes, but predictably happy, and everyone else congratulates them. Despite the smiles, however, Tony has a moment when he still feels a little bad for excluding all of them. The inevitable headslap is administered then, though, where there's an audience to chuckle at it, and Tony doesn't get much time to contemplate their own actions until they both get home that night.

"D'you think we should've told them?" he asks, as they sit on the couch in near-darkness. Their legs are entangled, and their interlaced fingers lie on his chest. Ziva breathes in sharply at his question.

"I think... that we acted very quickly. In... the spur of the moment, yes? We didn't have time to even think about the wedding, let alone telling people. As much as I... maybe would have liked to be walked up the aisle, and to have a... a big cake and a room filled with people, we agreed some years ago, that _traditional_ weddings aren't for us. I love what we had, Tony, and I love what we _have_, now. And I really, really, love you."

He kisses her with all the love he can muster, but it still doesn't seem enough. And a part of him knows that in however-many years time, it _still_ won't seem enough. But they'll have each other until then, and as he picks her up and carries her through to the bedroom, he'll certainly do his damndest to try.


End file.
